


Being Sick Sucks (but not really)

by yutamatic



Series: i wanna be close to you [7]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Sickfic, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, aw cute, cliche!!, i was sick so i wrote this, im obsessed with minsung ok they're so cute, plot? we don't know her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:54:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22838899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yutamatic/pseuds/yutamatic
Summary: Minho hates being sick. Luckily he has the best boyfriend in the world to take care of him (aka Han Jisung).
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Series: i wanna be close to you [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1423879
Comments: 2
Kudos: 152





	Being Sick Sucks (but not really)

**Author's Note:**

> enjoy this soft trash i wrote when i was high on ibuprofen lol

Minho gulps down two pain pills, followed by some cold water that helps soothe his sore throat a little. He places the glass on the counter, his warm forehead resting in his palm.

 _No_ , he can’t be sick.

He opens his eyes, a low groan escaping his lips. It’s really not the time, he has an essay to write and work later in the afternoon, and a cuddle date with Jisung tonight too.

He’s a busy body, and feeling icky is throwing a wrench in his plans.

After disposing the glass into the sink, he slumps to his room, limbs aching and tired. He settles at his desk again and blankly stares at his laptop screen. The words blur into a big jumbled mess, and he blinks multiple times, trying so hard to focus and think.

But his head protests, giving him pain and occasional dizziness instead of a substantial topic to write about.

He sighs, shutting off his laptop and closing it, deciding he’ll take a quick nap and sleep this headache off.

The moment he stands up, the floor starts swaying, great, another wave of dizziness. He grabs onto his desk chair for support.

He stumbles a few steps forward, collapsing face first onto his bed.

In the back of his mind he knows he should change into sweats or something since jeans aren’t the most comfortable to sleep in, but he doesn’t have the energy to.

He presses his cheek into his pillow, catching a short glance of the digital clock on his nightstand. But it doesn’t matter, because his eyelids fall close, and he’s out in seconds.

—

When Minho’s eyes flutter open, he feels worse than before. Pain pounds against his skull, face flushed and warm, and he’s definitely sweating but also shivering at the same time.

 _Shit_ , a fever.

He rolls over, throwing an arm over his burning forehead. He slowly opens his eyes again, they’re burning too, and he grunts in discomfort.

Sun rays still leak through the blinds, meaning he still has time to do his essay, go to work, and have his date.

Minho presses his palms against his mattress, trying to push himself up. His arms are jelly, weak, and his head falls right back onto his pillow.

“Fuck.” he whispers, voice barely there. He brings his fingers to his neck, lightly pinching the skin.

He’s lost his voice too.

His hand drops to his side, and he vaguely registers his phone is still in his pocket when his palm brushes his thigh.  
He pulls it out, checking the time, squinting when the brightness blares in his face.

Not only has he slept past the time he was supposed to come in for work, he also has a bunch of texts and missed calls. Some are from his boss, some are from the dumb group chat with his friends, and the rest are from Jisung.

Minho only skims the recent messages at the top of the notifications. They’re all Jisung’s.

 **jisungie**  
felix texted me and said u weren’t at work

 **jisungie**  
where r u

 **jisungie**  
at our apartment? r u sleeping or smth

 **jisungie**  
minho

 **jisungie**  
please respond

 **jisungie**  
:( im worried

Minho exhales, dropping his phone onto his chest. He’s too drained to reply, and he doesn’t want to say he’s sick because it’s a burden to everyone.

He closes his eyes again, hoping it’ll go away.

—

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Minho pouts as the cold washcloth is removed from his forehead.

“Didn’t want you to worry.” he mutters, throat scratchy.

“I’m your boyfriend, I’m supposed to worry.” Jisung sighs, lifting the blanket off Minho’s sweaty body. “You didn’t even change!”

“Was too tired.” Minho keeps his eyes closed, trying hard to make his voice an audible volume for Jisung to hear, but it ends up cracking.

“I’ll get you some clothes, stay put.”

The mattress shifts as the weight on the edge disappears. Minho waits, body burning and head pounding.

Jisung returns a minute later, gently tapping Minho’s thigh as he sits back down on the bed.

“You have to sit up if you want me to change your clothes.”

Minho groans, but accepts Jisung’s help with getting himself to sit up, one hand on his back and one on his shoulder. His head seems to weigh a hundred pounds when it’s not resting on something, and he cranes his neck uncomfortably.

Jisung lifts Minho’s shirt, which has started to stick to his skin since he’s sweating so much (gross).

“Lift your arms.”

Minho barely does since his muscles are so weak. Jisung ends up holding his arm with one hand and slipping the shirt off with another.

“You big baby.”

Minho pouts more at that. The shirt Jisung puts on him is definitely much softer than the previous one he was wearing, and it smells straight up like detergent and Jisung’s body wash.

Minho’s lips curl up into a tiny smile.

Changing his pants is more of a challenge, he’s wearing skinny jeans for fuck’s sake. But Jisung, being the best boyfriend and overall best boy in general, manages to successfully get the jeans off of him and replace them with some shorts without Minho doing much.

He wonders how Jisung pulls it off sometimes.

“Did you take medicine?”

Minho lays back on the pillow, nodding a little.

“Did you eat anything?”

He shakes his head.

“I’ll get you soup later. Right now you need to rest.” Jisung moves sweaty strands of hair out of Minho’s eyes.

“Cuddle.” Minho makes little grabby hands, not really though because he’s not really trying.

“But I’m gonna get sick.” Jisung replies softly.

“Cuddle.” Minho requests again, deepening his pout into a frown.

And since Jisung is painfully whipped for this boy, he lays down next to Minho and lets him rest his head on his chest, wrapping his arm around Minho’s shoulders.

Minho smiles, placing his hand on Jisung’s chest and nuzzling his nose into the crook of his neck.

“You’re burning, are you sure you want my warmth on top of that?” he hears Jisung ask.

Minho simply nods. He doesn’t mind or care at this point. “Sorry I got sick.” he whispers.

“Don’t apologize.” Jisung replies. “There was nothing you could’ve done to stop it.”

“It just sucks. I need to do a lot of stuff.” Minho whines.

“Hey,” Jisung calls out softly. He places his hand on top of Minho’s, curling his fingers under Minho’s palm. “Don’t stress about it. You’ll have time to do it later. Right now you should sleep, it’s hard to work when you’re feeling like shit, right?”

Minho sighs, Jisung does have a point. “Can I have a kiss first?” he asks, gazing up at his boyfriend with soft, puppy eyes that makes Jisung weak everytime.

Jisung leans forward, letting his lips linger on the top of Minho’s head for a few moments. “There, rest now.”

“You’re the best.” Minho murmurs, closing his eyes.

Jisung ends up sick in bed two days later.

**Author's Note:**

> minsung are so adorable :(


End file.
